


Elven Glory

by adjectivebear (HealerAriel)



Series: Haute Couture [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, PWP, SMUTTY SMUT, Winter Palace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5077822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HealerAriel/pseuds/adjectivebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a few glasses of wine, Alya and Solas sneak away to take a spin around the gardens of the Winter Palace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elven Glory

The gardens of the Winter Palace truly  _were_  a marvel, Alya decided as she and Solas walked arm in arm down one of the verdant paths. They’d managed to steal away during the flurry of celebration after Celene’s declaration of peace, and no one seemed to have missed them yet.

Alya had dreamed of seeing the gardens for herself ever since she’d first read of their splendor in her Orlesian romances, but she realized now that no words could have even begun to do them justice. She had never seen such flowers! Even in her wildest dreams she could not have imagined the sheer variety of fragrant blooms. There were roses and lilies of every shape and color; lilacs of the softest purple and the brightest white; large, ivory blossoms that smelled of oranges and vanilla; exotic, striped flowers that had no scent, but were positively mesmerizing to behold.

“How do they keep it all so  _green_?” she breathed, reaching out to stroke a cheery yellow flower that smelled strongly of what could only be described as summer. “It’s nearly Kingsway.”

“Magic,” Solas said. “Surely you have noticed how unseasonably warm it is tonight?”

Alya _had_ noticed that she wasn’t the slightest bit chilly, but she had attributed it to, if not a fluke of the weather, then the thrill of foiling the Grand Duchess’s plot.

Or, perhaps, the several glasses of good wine she’d imbibed. Judging by his pink ears and unusually ebullient mood, Solas had similarly indulged.

Alya leaned against the marble balustrade before them—gingerly, mindful of the delicate material of her gown—and gazed out on the lower gardens beyond. Solas embraced her from behind, and she sighed. “What do you suppose it was like?” she asked dreamily as she melted into his arms. “Halamshiral, I mean. When it was ours.”

“I expect it was magnificent,” Solas said. He nuzzled her ear. “But not so magnificent as you.”

Alya smiled, turning her head to steal a kiss. “Flirt.”

Her breath hitched as one of his hands drifted up to cup her breast. Yes. He had  _definitely_  had a few drinks.

“Would I be correct in assuming that this exquisite embroidery is the only thing preserving your modesty?”

“The better to showcase the exquisite embroidery, don’t you think?” she said coyly. She giggled as he  _growled_ , squeezing the breast in his hand. He planted a wet kiss below her ear and she bit her lip, already beginning to feel her body’s enthusiastic response to him. “How many times  _did_ you let those eager servants refill your glass,  _ma sa'lath_?”

Solas hummed noncommittally, nibbling his way down her neck. “That’s really neither here nor there.”

“ _Isn’t_  it?”

He sucked hard at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “ _Isalan pala na_.”

“ _Solas_!” Alya laughed, shocked to hear him use such language.

Her surprise, if he’d noted it, did not deter him in the slightest. He gripped her hips roughly and pulled them toward him, mashing her backside against his hardening cock. He spoke a lilting Elvish phrase against her ear, then repeated in the common tongue, “I wish to lose myself in your sweet cunt.”

Alya drew in a sharp breath as the organ in question clenched its assent. “And I’d  _love_  to let you, but this is hardly the place,” she said, aware that the argument was somewhat weakened by grinding her ass against his erection.

“Quite the contrary,” he said, nipping her neck. “As you have said: it was once ours. It is only proper we reclaim it.” He grasped matching handfuls of her skirt, crushing the sheer silk under his fingers, and Alya’s heart seized with horror.

“Solas, my  _gown_!”

Solas released her skirt. “Shh,” he said, splaying his hands over her belly. Alya felt a tingle of electricity against her skin as a wave of magic swept over her.

A barrier. He’d cast a barrier around her gown. Alya laughed, delighted, and turned her head to playfully lick his lower lip. “Aren’t _you_  full of useful tricks.”

He chuckled, gathering up her skirt again and inching the decadent fabric up her legs. “You have not yet seen the half of them.”

The dark promise in his voice made Alya shiver. She bent slightly, bracing her hands on the balustrade as he pushed her skirt up over her hips, baring her ass to the night air. Alya giggled as he palmed her buttocks lovingly, then moaned as he spread them, slipping his thumb easily into her sodden cunt.

She squealed, arching her back as a crackle of magic shot from his fingers, spidering down her legs and up her torso. Tingling tongues of magic lingered in its wake, circling her nipples, flicking into her navel, lapping at her clitoris.

He curled his thumb hard against the special spot inside her, and she nearly screamed.

“Solas,  _please_ ,” she whined, rocking back against his hand. His thumb withdrew, replaced moments later with the head of his cock. She arched again, trying to sheathe him, but he held her hips in place.

“'Please’ what,  _vhenan_?” he asked, nibbling her earlobe.

Under normal circumstances, Alya might have bothered to play coy, but his magical torment had her at her wit’s end. “Please fuck me,” she said, waggling her ass enticingly. “Fuck me with your lovely big cock.”

Her plea had the desired effect. With a whispered Elvish curse and a single swift movement, he drove himself in to the hilt. Alya cried out, using the balustrade as leverage to rock herself back in time with his fervid thrusts.

“ _Ma sa'lath_ , you feel  _so_  good,” she moaned. Creators, how she loved having him inside her! He filled her so perfectly, so completely that it felt as though he’d been made for her.

He kissed her neck wetly. “And you feel like paradise.”

He released his grip on one of her hips and slid his hand around to play between her legs. Those long, elegant, skillful fingers might as well have been made for her, too, and within moments had her moaning loudly without a second’s concern for who might overhear.

Suddenly, he changed his angle, and her eyes rolled back in her head as he began to hit her special spot with each upstroke.

“Oh, gods,” she breathed, feeling the first bloom of an orgasm unfurling in her belly.

Knowing—for he always seemed to—that she was hurtling toward her finish, he quickened his thrusts. He let his magic flare, and Alya gasped as the tendrils of energy he’d left licking at her doubled in intensity.

He turned her head toward him, sealing his mouth over hers to swallow her scream as she shattered beneath him, stars bursting before her eyes. She kissed him back frantically, breathlessly, and he followed shortly after, growling into her mouth as he spilled inside her.

They remained so for a long while, their bodies joined, sharing languid kisses as they caught their breath. With one last slow, sweet kiss, they finally parted…

And Alya seized his hat, sending it sailing over the gardens below. Solas gave her a puzzled look, and she grinned. “I told you I would do it.”

He chuckled. “You are ever a woman of your word.”

They righted their clothing and, after one last lingering kiss, made their way back into the ball.

**Author's Note:**

> Elvish courtesy of FenxShiral's "Project Elvhen." 
> 
> (“Isalan pala na” means exactly what you think it does: “I want to fuck you.”)


End file.
